The Romantic (The Vers Podcast #2) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Vers Podcast Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
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Once my hands were slicked up, I used one to wrap around his hot length, the other to push two fingers inside his tight ass.

“Fuck, Elliott. Why does this feel different with you? Why is everything so fucking different?”

Hope grew roots in my chest. Maybe this could work out. Maybe he could want us too. Maybe I could treat him right and wouldn’t hurt him.

“It’s all you, cariño,” I told him, fucking him and stroking him. His cock was red and leaking, his balls growing tighter by the second. Every time he looked close to orgasm, I’d let go, pull off, remove my fingers from inside him, and he would growl in response.

“Make me come!” he begged.

“So cute when you’re needy.”

“Aren’t I cute all the time?”

“Fuck yes.” I jerked him again, worked two fingers inside him, watched him writhe and heard him pant beneath me. Again, just when I thought he would lose himself to the pleasure, I pulled back.

“Please, Elliott…please make me come.”

“That’s not what I want you to call me right now. Who am I?” Jesus, I needed to hear him say it tonight. He had me so entranced with him, so entangled with him, and I didn’t ever want to become unwound.

“Husband…please make me come, husband.”

How could I deny him that?

My hands actually shook when I lubed myself up. I grabbed his waist, helped him arch up just a little more before I slid into him in one long, slow thrust.

We both groaned together, the feel of his hot body shooting me to the fucking moon. I gave him a second to adjust to my cock before fucking up and into him.

His dick bounced against his stomach, leaking precum on his abs. My fingers dug into his hips as I took his ass, letting my cock make a home in his hole, wishing I never had to leave it.

When Parker reached for his dick again, I shook my head. “No. Do you think I can make you come hands-free? Do you think I can make my pretty husband blow his load without even touching his cock?” I slammed into him again, making more precum leak from him.

“Yes, fuck yes. I’m close, so goddamned close already.”

Our bodies slapped together, my thighs against the back of his. His torso was still arched, me helping hold him up while I railed into his ass.

“Fuck, I love being inside my hole. Love knowing that the best ass belongs to me. My husband is so pretty and perfect. I want the world to know you’re mine.”

Parker cried out, my dick shoving hard into him again. When it did, his ass tightened, pulsed around me as his prick twitched and he shot over and over and over again. Every time I pumped my hips, he’d spurt again, cum all over his chest and neck, one shot even hitting his face.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone come so hard. I basically roared in triumph before my balls drew up, cum pulsing inside him, filling him.

I pulled out slowly, and he moaned. I’d gone at his ass hard, and I knew he had to be sensitive.

“What do you need?” I asked. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t give him.

His pupils blew wide, like he was surprised at the question. Not that it was me who asked, but I didn’t think anyone had ever asked him that kind of question before me.

“Just you,” Parker replied.

“I can do that.” I lay beside him, pulled him into my arms, and almost let myself ask him to stay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Parker

We were both fairly quiet the next day. We left early, the air and tension around us hot and thick. I couldn’t say why, really, at least not for him, but for me it was because I couldn’t deny my truth anymore.

I loved Elliott.

I was in love with him. I wanted to stay married to him. And wanting that scared the shit out of me. Because as much as I’d thought I’d been hurt in the past, as hard as it was when a relationship hadn’t gone as planned or a man hadn’t turned out to be the person I thought he was, nothing would compare to losing Elliott.

I glanced over at him in the passenger seat. He was looking out the window, watching the scenery go by. What was he thinking? Did he sense it too? That things were different and this was more than dating for me?

A million thoughts kept popping into my head. It felt like one of those whack-a-mole games, only I missed every single one when it emerged, and they kept coming, more and faster.

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?” I asked.

“I think I’ll go see my mom.”

Go see his mom? I knew they were close, but it sounded like an excuse. Oh God, it was an excuse, and he wanted to get away from me. He knew I loved him, and he needed space. I fought to swallow around the lump in my throat. “Nice.” Did that sound strange? Why was my voice so raspy? “I’m going to see the guys.” We weren’t recording The Vers until the following evening because I hadn’t been sure what time Elliott and I would be home, but I didn’t have another excuse.



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